Tsjusterboksem, 1998-2026

This video installation displays a clay depiction of the 'Sintrumtsjerke' and an arbiter house, both located in Donkerbroek, gradually disintegrating as time progresses.

The work grew from gathering archival material, personal stories, and field recordings around the village. Practically speaking, this came to me while I was standing in a ditch making a recording of running water. I was looking at one of the most noticeable buildings of Donkerbroek, a large and disused milk factory, and remembered how it had always functioned for me as a personal indication of ‘home’.

But then I realised that it had its own history as well, and that my experience of it was just my experience. The building existed beyond the meaning I had attached to it. This became a starting point point for looking at Donkerbroek through other stories, memories, and histories.

The clay structures were recorded as they collapsed, with these sounds combined with field recordings and sounds produced using a Korg M1. The resulting soundscape accompanies the slow disintegration of the buildings.

It is a slow work. Which, so far, has made the context in which it is placed feel almost like a different work altogether. It was first exhibited during the Minerva show: a hectic event which became almost a measurement’s tool of stimulation, attention, and pace.

Later, it was shown at Paradigm Festival, in a completely different environment and in front of a completely different audience.

Many times I noticed many people looking confused at the screen, wondering why there was a lump of clay on display. The expectations, misunderstandings, and speed of this social environment became almost a mirror of my own experience with making the ‘original’ work.

We both found ourselves encountering the work in different environments holding expectations, both internal as external, that sometimes did and sometimes did not come to fruition. When I encountered Donkerbroek from that ditch, in a moment of revelation, I was unable to place that I was looking at. When the audience encountered that instability through my attempt to capture it, it became difficult for them to place it too.

In exhibiting the work, the frame I had placed around it began to break, again. This became equally important as the work itself: I enjoy its autonomy, but it is mostly the context surrounding it that I continue to feed upon.